Endless
by Xirysa
Summary: Post FE7. When we die we go to the Endless, for that is the way things are.


**Xirysa Says:** Whoo-hoo! More 'fic of the unadulterated crap variety. What more could you ask for? (Perhaps 'fic written by an author with more talent? I don't blame you if you do. XD) Ugh… This definitely didn't come out the way I wanted it to. Oh well.

* * *

Endless

-x-x-x-

Even years later, Lyndis always remembered the smoke of the ceremonial fire as it curled lazily into the graying sky above it. Around her, the Lorca stood still, nearly expressionless, as they watched the old woman sitting in front of the blaze. The silver knife in her withered hand glowed orange as it reflected the flames into the twilight air.

With a twist of her hand a flick of her wrist, the woman brought the knife to the base of her neck and pulled upwards, slicing through her long hair in one swift motion. A few strands fell slowly to the ground, and for a moment Lyndis thought that the silvery locks were moonbeams made real.

The old woman stood up slowly, then, and Lyndis heard a distinct _crack_ resound through the air as old bones rubbed and moved against each other. She extended her hand until it was directly above the small fire and looked sadly at the body of an old man that lay on the other side of the fire.

"My husband," she said. Her voice withered and dry from the years, but grew stronger as the traditional prayer for the dead left her mouth. "You have left us for the Endless, and I know you are frightened and alone." The woman opened her hand, and the hair fell slowly, gracefully, from her grasp, to land in the flames below. A few moments later, the distinct scent of burning hair permeated the air. "I, too, am alone, and so I give you this to keep you company until we are reunited. May Mother Earth and Father Sky keep you in Their embrace until I rejoin you."

Around her, the men and women of the Lorca uttered the final words of the prayer: "May Brother Moon, Shepherd of the Dead, lead you to the Endless safely. A thousand blessings upon you for a life fulfilled."

-x-x-x-

A few days later, Lyndis watched silently as the old woman left the Lorcan encampment wearing only a simple cotton dress and a pale cloth covering the remnants of her hair—the garb of a widow. In her right hand was a small bundle that held a handful of strips of dried meat and a few pieces of bread; her left held an earthen jug that carried as much water as could be spared.

Lyndis watched the widow leave with wide eyes. After the old woman was nothing more but a speck on the horizon, Lyndis looked for her mother; she found Madelyn sitting outside their ger, weaving together long blades of grass for new sleeping mats.

"Why did she leave?" Lyndis asked. "Father said that the winds haven't changed yet, so we don't have to go, but why did the old woman go? Where did she go?"

Madelyn sighed. "She's gone to the Endless," she replied, never taking her eyes from her work. "She's gone to rejoin her husband."

"The Endless?" Lyndis blinked. "But she isn't dead yet."

Her mother nodded. "You're right," she told her daughter, "but that is the way things are. Now leave me, I have work to do."

-x-x-x-

When they left the encampment for the warmer lands near the mountains of Bern, they found the body of the old woman curled into a ball on the ground. Even though her body was becoming one with Mother Earth, their was no way a person could mistake the smile on her face for anything else.

-x-x-x-

It has been so many years since she was an innocent little girl on the plains, Lyndis thinks as her hand traces lightly over the face of the man on the grass in front of her. It has been so many years, and yet…

Lyndis raises her arms above her head. With one hand, she lifts her hair away from the back of her neck; the other pulls the knife up quickly, and her eyes squeeze shut at the feel of the blade severing the strands.

There is no fire. She can't bring herself to leave him long enough to find wood and flint and tinder. The fact that he won't smile at her is bad enough—Lyndis doesn't think that she could bring herself to be separated from him any long. Instead, she takes her hair, marveling at its length, and places it near his head. The way her dark hair brushes against his own bright red locks his almost too much for her to bear, and she buries her face in the material of his shirt.

The fact that she can't feel the beating of his heart just makes everything worse.

"Kent," she whispers. "Kent, Kent, Kent, Kent…" His name is a prayer, a lifeline. She lifts her head slightly, and her hand goes back to tracing the contours of his face.

"Oh, Kent," Lyndis murmurs, "so handsome, so wonderful…" She doesn't notice when her eyes finally close or when everything is suddenly dark and silent.

-x-x-x-

When her eyes finally open, there is a figure standing in front of Lyndis. It is far too tall and far too thin to be him, but she is happy anyway, because she knows who it is.

"Are you taking me to the Endless?"

Brother Moon nods.

"And to Kent?"

Another nod.

Lyndis smiles. "Let's go, then."

The Shepard of the Dead turns to go, and Lyndis moves to follow, when something stops her. She starts to turn around, wondering if she can still see herself with her head resting on her love's chest on the plains, but she stops herself.

She knows that she is smiling there, too.

-x-x-x-

* * *

**Xirysa Says:** I was once again trying to avoid talking to this creeper kid when I got the idea for this. BUT GAHH THIS TURNED OUT TERRIBLE. Oh well. The customs and practices of the Lorca are left rather ambiguous and free to interpretation, as are many of Fire Emblem's cultures. So this is just one author's way of looking at things. Some stuff was taken from different cultures and religions and put into something that is at least somewhat original and could be a possible Sacaen custom. The hardest part, I think, was not explicitly stating that "the Endless" was the Sacaen equivalent of an afterlife. Feedback and critique is welcome!


End file.
